Monthly Archives: March 2013

By the time Pavel and Elena reached the mountains the snows had come to stay for the winter. After nightly sheltering under fallen rocks with their many pelts and gathered food, they finally came to the mouth of a cave they had seen up on a ledge.

“Wait here,” Pavel said.

After a few minutes Elena heard him yell, “Step away from the entrance!”

“I’m clear!” she rejoined. Then a group of foxes ran out and off into the mountains.

The afternoon sun was shining into the cave as Elena entered. Pavel was standing to the side investigating an organized stack of rocks.

“It looks like someone left this.”

Elena helped him lay the stones aside. Underneath was a large wooden chest with an inscription on the top. “Love God, then do what you will. – St. Augustine”

“What do you think?” asked Pavel.

“I don’t know what I think about St. Augustine, but the advice is intriguing. Maybe we should ponder it before we try to open it.”

“You’re getting ahead of yourself. What about the person or people who left it here? We should look around some more.”

“I can’t see to the back of the cave.”

“We need a fire.”

The fire revealed several faded frescoes that Pavel and Elena recognized as icons. In the left back corner of the cave was a mound of skins. As they approached they smelled a sweet fragrance. As they removed the skins, they discovered the skeletal remains of a man. The fragrance was coming from his moist clothing, which included a tattered yellowing cloth shirt with red embroidery.

“This is a Saint.” Pavel said solemnly. “From his shirt, I’d say he was an Old Believer.”

Elena crossed herself and made a prostration, and remained kneeling on the ground. Pavel did the same.

“ Strange that the foxes and other animals left him alone,” Pavel said.

“I think we should too,” said Elena. “This is a holy place. Should we stay here?”

“If the foxes were allowed, why shouldn’t we be?”

“’Love God and do as you will’,” Elena said quietly. “I guess he willed to live and die in this cave.”

“Given his circumstances, whatever they were.”

Some would be afraid that that phrase leads to license to sin,” Elena said, “Or be deluded into thinking that they love God and will rightly.”

“They would probably go with what they believed without permission.” Pavel said, getting up and going back to the box.

“If most don’t need permission to act on your own will, why make that statement?”

“Perhaps St. Augustine was addressing hesitant people. People who thought they couldn’t act until they heard the voice of God.”

“Didn’t he believe in grace alone? If he thought that his will was corrupt, then how could he trust it?”

“I haven’t read much of St. Augustine. I’d have to know more before I could say.”

“I will that we open the box.”

Inside the unlocked box on one side were several old books all printed in the 18th century. On the top was a Bible, then a prayer book, then the Philokalia in Greek, On the Incarnation by St. Athanasius, 400 Chapters on Love by St. Maximus the Confessor, The Conferences by St. John Cassian, The Ladder of Divine Assent by St. John Climacus, Confessions of St. Augustine, and Paradise Lost by John Milton. The rest of the box was filled with a clay bowl, a wooden spoon, and a brass teapot.

“I can’t imagine a richer treasure trove!” said Pavel. “I will that we borrow these things.”

“Elena, Remember asking who an enemy is? I just read in Luke when Christ is telling the parable of the nobleman who gave talents to his servants, and one of them buried his, how the nobleman condemns him saying, ‘But those mine enemies, which would not that I should reign over them, bring hither, and slay them before me.'”

“That sounds pretty harsh.”

“What is interesting is that he says that to those standing by. He is also the judge of the land with the authority of capital punishment. So if someone believed in a Christian society, could they condemn people who didn’t invest their talents?”

“The nobleman seemed to have despotic power. That’s different than a rule of law.”

“Good point. So is God a despot?”

“I tend to think of him as more merciful and a bestower of free will.”

“But you are the truth and rightness enforcer.”

“That’s why God needs me.”

“Blasphemy!” Pavel playfully shielded his head from impending lightning. “The Old Testament God can seem more despotic, but then Jesus prevented them from stoning the adulteress. But it is Christ telling the parable. Maybe there’s a difference between the Father and the Son. Could the parable be about the Father?”

“I have heard that Christ mediates between us and the Father,” Elena offered.

“He mediates the Father’s justice to the money changers.”

“Yet they are one in essence. Not personality?”

“One probably should not characterize them differently as one being merciful and the other being just. The Son reveals the Father.”

“We should live in fear of him and hope for mercy.”

“Yes. Or fear we are his enemies but hope to be made faithful servants at least.”

Pavel woke to a vague sense of anxiety. Remembrance came when his eyes opened and he saw he was alone. He picked up the trap and the bag made from her skirt filled with apples, berries, and nuts they had been gathering for the winter and set out to find Elena

“How did you find me?” Elena asked.

“You left a barefoot trail into the woods,” Pavel said simply.

“I asked you not to follow me.”

“I know, but I couldn’t leave it like that. I’m sorry for how I put things yesterday. I don’t believe that’s the only way, or all I am capable of.”

“I’m glad it happened. I was afraid of being alone before that. Walking alone actually wasn’t that bad. You have taught me how to hunt and gather food. I believe I can make it now.”

“I don’t remember any Scriptures that really say who an enemy is. There are those that explain who a neighbor is, but who is an enemy?” Elena pondered.

“Someone you think is wrong?”

“Or more wrong than right.”

“Then who is ever right enough?”

“Those who are justified,” Elena said.

“How does one know who is justified?”

“Their conscience tells them.”

“Some people have more confidence in their conscience discerning such things than others. You seem pretty sure of who you think is right or wrong, and you determine a course of action based on it. That makes everyone sort of under your jurisdiction.”

Elena was surprised by his aggressive tone. “Don’t you do the same thing?”

“Who do you think has determined our current course the most?”

“I have determined mine and you have chosen to walk with me so far. Do you think this is wrong?”

“Everything is always about right and wrong with you. I am going this way because I care what happens to you. If I chose to go a different way I think you would only be concerned about if I had a good enough reason to abandon you.”

“That is true.”

“That makes you Lord Chancellor and me your servant.”

“My valued, caring servant.” Elena smiled, thinking it was an amusing part in a play.

“I don’t want to be that.”

“You don’t think it is right?”

“Blast your rightness. But no, I think the man should be Lord Chancellor.”

“Ok. What do you decree then?”

“Ok? You call all the shots and then give up all at once?”

“I have come to appreciate your help and I respect your judgment.”

“So you have deemed me justified?”

“I suppose so.”

“Shall I bow to your appointment?”

Elena looked at the ground. “No. I’m sorry. I didn’t realize I was coming across that way.”

“I need to think about things a bit more.”

Pavel sat by the side of the road. Elena walked on, not knowing what else to do. She began to feel afraid. She had gotten used to his company and did not want to lose it, but neither could she go a different way if he decided to, nor did she know if he would want her to go with him. Her steps slowed. Finally she stopped. She decided that maybe he was right that it was wrong for her to be so determined about her direction. That maybe she would wait to see what he decided. She looked back and saw him still sitting beside the road. She sat down where she was to give him space.

As evening approached Pavel rose and walked to where she was sitting. He sat down beside her. “Do you really want to be a solitary?”

“Do you want me to justify myself?”

“I’m just wondering if your waiting here means you’ve changed your mind about being a solitary.”

“Maybe I don’t have what it takes. The thought of you leaving scared me. If I was a solitary I wouldn’t have minded.”

“What do you want to happen if I take you to the caves?”

“You could live in one nearby and we could share things.”

“So you want me to dedicate my life to serving you.”

“You don’t think it would be mutual?”

“Not if it’s your idea.”

“Well, I don’t remember you having a particular destination in mind when I met you.”

Pavel was silent.

“You accepted my decisiveness at first. Now you resent it.”

“I don’t see how I can respect myself or you if this is all your idea.”

“Being on the road was your idea too. It was your idea to find shelter and to find food. The only thing I decided was to go this way. It is a big step, but did you feel strongly about the other way?”

“No. But it was the way I was going and now I’m not anymore because of you.”

“That sounds childish.”

“That sounds disrespectful.”

“I’m really sorry you are so mad at me. I could just tell you to go back to where you were going, but it would be to protect my pride, not because I thought it was right.”

“So it still has to be about what you think is right?”

“I don’t know any other way to operate.”

“I think my anger is because my pride is wounded too. Even so, I don’t want to keep capitulating to you.”

“Ok. What do you want?”

“Do you really want to know? I want you. Body and soul. But I’ll take as much as you want to give. If you don’t give me everything, then you’ll be in charge.”

His words burrowed through her ears to her heart where they sank like a flat, unrolling rock, heavy, and there to stay. The weight of them left her silent.

“You said you want just to be neighbors. Actually, I don’t know if I can be that.”

“I can’t be more than that. Pavel, I’m married.”

Pavel was silenced while the weight of her words sank his heart. Finally he said, “You seemed so available.”

“I am sorry that my heart acts like it is, but legally it is not. I really do believe I have to learn to give it to God. Only then will it learn to be faithful.”

“Why is your heart unfaithful?”

“Because I learned not to trust the ones it gave itself to before. Because I was wrong, and eventually I don’t let myself have what is wrong. Not when the decisive time comes. Up to that point, I blindly let it go where it wants.”

“But right now it wants me?”

“Yes, Pavel. Right now it is yours. And God’s. I trust you, but I won’t if you persist in wanting me to give myself to you.”

“I will always persist.”

“Then I have to go a different way.”

“So you think you can change your heart’s mind?”

“I don’t know. I have grown to respect you. I think you could be mostly right, and therefore justified, even if you are wrong to ask this of me. You are unique in the world. I’m beginning not to trust myself anymore. You could crack my decisiveness. I should go on alone.”

“It is difficult to know what one should do. It is easier to know what one wants,” Pavel said, grabbing her elbow and pulling her close. Elena buried her head in his shoulder and started to cry. Pavel wrapped his other arm around her back, drawing her closer. She sank into him and began to sob. He stroked her hair and started kissing the top of her head. “Shhh. Don’t cry.” He put his finger under her chin to lift it, but she turned her head.

“Elena, if a person desires truth and rightness above all, and he is not sure what should be, how does he know what is true and right?”

“I suppose he does the best he can.”

“That seems dissatisfying.”

“Then do you think it is possible to attain perfect love?”

“Love seems more on and off. You choose to love when you choose to.”

“So all one has to do is to attempt to love and they love as well as they ought, but truth is more difficult to discern and act upon?”

“Unless love is more complicated than I thought.”

“Say you hear a baby crying, what would love entail? Telling him you love him?”

“Probably not. You would have to determine what was the matter.”

“What if he wants to be held longer than the time you have allotted in your busy schedule of equally needful priorities and cries when he is put down? Would it be loving to withhold from him what would stop his crying?”

“I don’t know about such things.”

“So you admit loving correctly is difficult!”

“You have inserted the word, ‘correctly’. That puts it in your category of truth and rightness. Maybe love doesn’t need that additional qualification to be love. Maybe intentions are enough.”

“So if you tell a starving baby you love it and do not feed it, or do feed it but with the wrong things, that is enough, because you intended love?”

“If one was truly ignorant of how to feed a baby and loved with the best intentions, then I think they could be said to have loved. One would then need to determine why they were so ignorant.”

“Then who chooses to be unloving? Couldn’t anyone be convinced that they are loving while depriving their objects of what they really need? I choose correctness over love in that case.”

“Who knows the amount of damage done if a person gives correct things without love. Perhaps it is better to be physically unhealthy but loved.”

“We get back to intentions then. Say a person doesn’t feel love, but gives good things out of a sense of obligation, or commitment to rightness. You could say that their love is in their head instead of their heart, which may disqualify it as love. Perhaps their feelings are more sympathetic to their own situation than the other’s, but at least they know what the other person needs. They do not want that person to go without good things.”

“So you believe love is a feeling. Like warmth and desire. “

“Don’t you?”

“Warmth and desire are a type of love, and they can be present in the midst of ignorance. A commitment to truth and rightness can perhaps be another type of love. A desire for health that transcends the desire for the individual person. I suppose it would be like giving a cup of water to an enemy. If one considers them an enemy, is that love?”

“I don’t know, but I don’t think it is the way the enemy would want to be loved. They may even refuse it if they think they are being patronized.”

“That would be an idealistic enemy!” Pavel said. “One that values correctness over love.”

“So a loving enemy would appreciate a cup of water given under duress?”

“Yes.”

“But would a thirsty enemy appreciate being told he was loved instead of given water?”

“If he was loving, yes, but he may go look for a more competent, unloving enemy.” Pavel smiled.

“Then you’ve proven that correctness is better than love.”

“Your statement presumes that the body’s needs are primary. How can that be the case if everyone dies? I think it is also important to feel psychologically loved.”

“I don’t think one can live on psychological love alone. They would then have to look elsewhere, even if they valued it.”

“Unless they were willing to die. Or thought it was right to die. Or love compelled them to die rather than look elsewhere.”

“Are you saying that a loving person would never leave a harmful situation?”

“No. Sometimes it is unloving to let someone hurt you.”

“How does one know the difference?”

“It is difficult to know what one should do. It is easier to know what one wants.” Pavel reclaimed his statement.

The first real one I rode didn’t want to be ridden for as long as I wanted to ride him, so he got rid of me.”

“Surely some fictional horses have had a different will than their riders.”

“Hmm. What make it seem different?” she thought for a minute. “I think the author’s will makes it different. The author can arrange all the character’s wills to eventually line up with his. A good story will make it seem like a challenge, but in the end, everyone capitulates to the author. In real life, everyone is the author of their own story, and they don’t always have the same ending in mind. Some people may have a stronger will than others and be able to convince them, but strong wills take a lot of energy and effort, as well as patience and the ability to strategize and convincingly implement. I don’t really have all that. I think I would rather that people and horses automatically and already have the same ending in mind.”

“In your story, the challenge wouldn’t be to win over your first love, but to finally, after many partings of the ways, find someone going the same direction as you?”

“I am conflicted about that. Company along the way is very nice. As is protection and provision. I can’t say that it would have been better for me to be alone so far. But I don’t want to rule out that I could have either made it by myself or that it would have been ok for me to die from exposure. Resurrection being the goal, after all. You have helped me think through things. Is thinking through things necessary? It often makes me sad.”

“I can’t seem to leave you alone. The thought of doing that would torture me the rest of my life.”

“What makes you so different?”

“I don’t have anything else better to do.”

“That makes you quite unique in the world.”

“Surely there have been others who have wanted to be with you more than you with them? Haven’t you ever left anybody?”

“You just wont stop, will you? Yes, I have walked away from some people. Freedom should go both ways. Maybe I have broken some hearts too. I’m sorry if I have.”

After walking in silence for a while Elena asked, “What if we came upon someone with whom I would willingly live, or found a cave where I could take care of myself? Then you wouldn’t have to feel responsible for me being on your road.”

“Either my heart would be broken or I would feel relieved from worrying about you. Maybe both.”

“That’s complicated. It makes me wish you hadn’t come back. I don’t like how I’ve complicated your life. You would have been better with the sun to warm and scold you.”

“Maybe the sun wanted me to walk with you. The darkness of winter is coming.”

“It is hard to know what should be. It is easier to know what one wants.” This time she did not smile.

“It has a few times, but each time it doesn’t work out, the heart gets more and more divided. First love is whole hearted, then the heart breaks in two, and second love is half hearted, and so forth. Finally, all one has is a bunch of pebbles for a heart.”

“Maybe they can be sown together like rabbit pelts.”

“Maybe so. But a pieced together heart is like a quilt. It tells many stories, not the one a man wants to hear. A smart heart doesn’t let this happen to itself.”

“A foolish heart is less careful. But this carelessness seems generous.”

“Until it wises up. Until it quits giving itself away. Until it loses faith in what it imagined it wanted in the first place.”

“If it truly lost faith, then it wouldn’t mind its body and mind getting married. If it gave up on the possibility of happiness, what is it holding out for?”

Elena drew up short. “I think ‘happiness’ is the wrong word. ‘Connection’. You have a point. I think a broken, disillusioned heart should try connection to God instead.”

“But isn’t it too utilitarian to say that the reason to live on this earth is to do things?” Pavel questioned.

“What is wrong with utilitarianism?”

“It seems kind of cold. And it can be used to justify technology, which you seem to be against.”

“Perhaps you are confusing efficiency with utility. Usefulness helps one attain what is valuable. One values what one wants, which may or may not be what one should have. Efficiency is more technical and materialistic, less about values.”

“What do you value?”

“Truth and rightness. And you?”

“Love.”

“Your answer is better.” Elena felt unexpectedly sad and walked on with her head down.

“What is the matter?” Pavel asked.

“I don’t know.”

Pavel touched her shoulder. Elena looked up at him with tears in her eyes.

“It’s ok. Hey, look. There’s a squirrel.” Pavel took the twig trap he’d made off his back. He placed it under the tree and took out some pine nuts from his pocket while Elena sliced a piece of apple for bait. He set the trap with the twig around which he had wound a long tied-together strip of cloth made from Elena’s dress. They hid behind a bush and waited the usual amount of time until the squirrel went in and was trapped.

While Pavel stabbed him through the twigs, Elena said, “Utilitarian distractions make a sad person feel better.”

“What an analyst you are. Can’t you just feel things without thinking about them so much?”

“No. You have to make sure your feelings are justified.”

“Why?”

“Because people can be overly sentimental and deceived by their emotions into doing wrong things.”

“Like what?”

“Like spoiling people and getting into illicit relationships. You have to think about consequences.”

“Too much thinking can make you miss a moment. Sometimes you have to go with your gut. Unthinking reflexes also help you catch dinner.”

“You had to intelligently make a stage for your reflexes to be most effective. You couldn’t just blindly start running after the squirrel, or yell at him to come to your knife. The mind has to be in control and protect the gut, as you put it.”

“I think the heart is stronger than the mind. The mind will eventually wear out and the heart will have its way. That’s why you cried a while ago. Your mind couldn’t stop it.”

“The squirrel could.”

“Squirrels must be stronger than hearts, then, right?” Pavel joked.

“Probably because of the strength of the gut.” Elena thought a moment, “If one is starving, food is all they care about. Once satisfied, they can afford to think about and feel other things. Maybe people are different in if one’s conscience or one’s heart is stronger.”

“I still think the heart is stronger, if one is not starving to death. The brain or conscience takes over if the heart is injured.”

“Or if the heart is stupid. Maybe some people’s hearts are naturally smarter and they can listen to them.”

“You know, knives were made partly through the killing of trees.” Pavel apparently did not mind needling her.

“One cannot be a complete idealist. Bad things happen and affect people against their will.”

“But shouldn’t you protest?”

“I cannot criticize you for not having my standards.”

“But how can one hunt and skin rabbits without a knife?”

“Sharpened stones.”

“The world criticizes Russia for being backwards, and you would have us go back to the stone age?”

“Why not? People become addicted to having more and more and more without ever considering ill effects to the earth, others, or even themselves. There is no end to it.”

“But again, what about the rabbit?” Pavel asked. “What makes your life more important than his?”

“I did not invent the food chain. It occurs everywhere. It is the way of the natural world. Animals have to eat to survive. The difficulty of killing in nature prevents one from over-consuming, which is why wild animals are not fat. Technology makes it too easy to over-consume.”

“Animals don’t have a choice whether to use technology or not. Modern domesticated animals are fed by it, wild ones aren’t. It is different when one has a choice to use something made with modern tools or not. Should I throw away my knife? What good would that do? It cannot be unmade.”

“No, but if you lose it, or it gets broken, you could try a more natural alternative instead of replacing it.”

“A stone or wooden knife would not be as good at the job. It would neither be as sharp, nor as strong.”

“So you would have to become sharper and stronger.”

“But what about weak people, like old people and children? With technology, they can fend for themselves.”

“If they were taught and were used to it, they would be stronger longer. Beyond that, the unavoidably weak are dependent upon those stronger. In nature they die.”

“Most people can’t accept that, if it is preventable by any means available. The choice makes it different than in isolated nature. To refuse help seems like murder or suicide.”

“Not if one believes that murder and genocide were committed in the development of such technologies.”

“I don’t think it’s as simple as that. You’ve justified animals being killed for survival. Garden plants are also killed by harvesting, if not the winter. That is hardly murder and genocide. Maybe all this wasn’t necessary before the fall, but it is now.”

“Modern technologies have killed the way of life of more natural subsisters. They need more and more land for their greed, and they either seduce, kill, or drive out people who resist. It is true that when a child is sick, the naturalist may seek modern aid, but how many times has this been due to the diseases brought through modern ways of living? They force a problem and its only cure.

I’m not saying one should never cut down a tree, but the way it is done is far too wasteful.” Elena continued, “If tools were cruder, less trees would be cut down.

And, one should not be afraid of death.”

“If you love someone, you don’t just let them die.”

“God did.”

“Then why did Christ spend so much time healing people?”

“To show them that he could both forgive sins and raise them from the dead. That’s why we don’t have to fear death.”

“Still, it seems awfully callus to just let someone suffer or die when there is help.”

“I think people are too afraid of suffering. They consider it the ultimate evil. It’s a symptom of evil, not evil itself. The nature of evil should be considered more, not just its effects.”

“But what about when Christ’s disciples wondered why the man was born blind, if it was his sin or his parents’, and Jesus said neither, but that the works of God could be displayed in him.”

“One, Christ didn’t cut him open or put some chemical in his eyes to heal him. Two, what good does it do to see the world and not see God? Can a blind man see God?”

“Then why did Christ heal his eyes and not just give him a spiritual vision?”

“Maybe to show them that he would also resurrect our bodies. We are meant to see him with our physical eyes. I don’t think it was just for him to enjoy the mundane world, glorious as it is.”

“If it is all about future resurrection, then what is the point of trying to sustain our life at all?”

“Because there are things we have to do before we die. It is different for everyone.”

“How does one know what they have to do?”

“It is very difficult to know. It is easier to know what one wants.” Elena smiled at Pavel.